Andrew was tense for the entire trip. He hated close spaces, he hated the van, he pretty much hated the whole country at that moment because of so many things he hated. He didn't care if it was the country's fault or not, he hated it. The entire trip had Andrew rapdily tapping his foot, nearly shaking the entire car in the process. He gripped onto the door handle feeling like he should pull the lever and jump out, going at 40 miles an hour. It'd be a fitting death for him and rather preferred it over staying in some cramped up little car.
He nearly chewed Jess's head off when he began to speed up at the harbour. Was he daft?! He was freaking outta his mind and he had the nerve to go faster?! Every passing second tempted Andrew more and more to just roll outside and use his broom to follow them. Frankly, he didn't think of the consequences, he just wanted out. Now.
Once they finally reached their destination, Andrew immediatly opened the door, not even waiting for the car to stop, and worked up a nice run, trying to keep up with his own momentum. He closed the car door, nearly slamming it, and ran out to the open space. Jesus, it was over. THANK YOU! he said in his mind, not talking to anyone particular. He turned his back and looked over to the small van and watched everyone pile out.
"I am never getting back in that thing," he said his voice sounding a lot more like demanding "I am sick of the closed spaces." He then marched over to the door that led into the house and quickly rushed to the kitchen, trying to calm himself down. He was usually cool and collect, but could not handle the small spaces anymore. Once again, he was thinking about what had caused him to get the sudden case of claustrophobia, but was more concerned about the adrenaline coursing through his veins.